


A Divine Comedy

by iArgent



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Cole doesn't even, Cullen tries to be a good bro, Dorian's trying to be a good bro, Dorian/Inquisitor overall, Ghost is prone to failure, Happy Ending, Iron Bulls lifestyle is fun, Josephine is protective momma bear, Just not for Lavellan, Leliana and Zevran both feel bad about it, Leliana tries to be a good bro, M/M, MILD - Freeform, Repeated relationship failures, Sera doesn't even, Solas needs tea to deal with this, Unrequited interest, Varric may need to write a divine comedy, because I hate angst in huge doses, cuz that's how I roll, look - Freeform, the guy is really bad at finding the right strain of attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-04 09:59:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6653326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iArgent/pseuds/iArgent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian is incredibly fond of Ghost Lavellan. He may even be his best friend. Unfortunately, the man has terrible taste, a knack for finding people who don't want him, can't give him what he needs, or in general, suit him poorly. How Andrastes chosen is this unlucky in love is beyond him. Shame the man was never interested in him.  Maybe his brain can let him forget the last part.</p><p>Likely not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cullen

**Author's Note:**

> I have no beta and all my work is hot off the press. Apologies for any mistakes. My keyboard has a few keys that don't like working, particularly 'i'.

Syl’din Lavellan (Just, use Ghost. It sounds so much better) was a quiet, reserved elf. He wasn’t prone to smiling widely, raucous drinking, flirting, or group interaction. In fact, on the rare occasion he cracked a joke, laughter came as much for the oddity as for his dry humor. Despite this, the Herald was well liked, looked up to as a mage, and always conducted himself with diplomacy.

That didn’t mean he was lonely, however. His followers became like friends to him, and then actually became friends of his. Nevertheless, he was prone to crushes, he wanted someone to be warm inside when they thought of him, and he wanted to return the feeling. Just a soft brush of the heart. Just slightly off from friendship. Someone who could touch him in public in a way that didn’t imply sternness, comfort, or an attention grab. Just…He wanted it. The exact explanation wasn’t important, and it just made him feel bad that his friends didn’t seem to be enough. There was something missing.

The Commanders stupid boyish smile was to blame. The man could talk for hours and Ghost never heard a thing. Just saw that fucking stupid smile, and the smirk, and the eyes and that Creators Cursed scar.

Ghost twisted himself in knots trying to talk to the man. What did a Dalish mage and a human former Templar have in common?

A complete fucking inability to communicate with another living being, that’s what.

“Commander!” Leliana called, waving him over.

Cullen sighed, wandering over to the Spymaster, she kept seeking him out, asking him questions on various decisions the Herald had made, how do you like the setting, I bet Syl’din would be interested in hearing how Templars worked, is that a new scabbard? Frankly, it made no sense, it was like she was trying to communicate and just never said what she wanted. Cullen blamed Orlais.

“Leliana, what can I do for you?”

The Spymasters lips tugged into a small smile “Syl’din has returned from the Hinterlands, but I cannot find him. He is usually by you.”

“Ah, no. I haven’t seen Gho-Syl’din today. Odd, he is usually around.”

“Oh, his nickname is growing on you then?”

“He prefers being called Ghost, for whatever reason, and I’m inclined to respect that.”

Oddly, despite receiving no proper answer to anything, Lelianas smile didn’t falter. “You two are like two thorns, on a rose. It’s captivating.”

“Two…Thorns..On, a…Makers Breath, two peas in a pod would do, Leliana.”

Leliana clasped her hands behind her back, leaning in and looking up. “Oh, but roses and thorns are so much more romantic, Commander.”

“Romantic?! Why would our address need-.”

“You’re thicker than Ferelden stew. He’s enamored of you. It would do you good to loosen up.”

“Enamored?” Cullen muttered with a grimace.  “That’s..Unfortunate.”

Lelianas smile finally dipped “But why? You’re clearly-.”

“It’s just, not the time right now. I’d best let him know.”

And the Commander tuned on his heel and walked away without even saying goodbye. And the Spymaster frowned in disbelief.

 

 

 

Lelianas presence at his cabin was a bit unsurprising.

“Come in.” Ghost intoned stepping out of the way for the Spymaster to enter with a large tray.

“You weren’t at dinner. We were worried.”

“I skip meals all the time, Cullen was worried he’d upset me.” He stated bluntly, walking back to his desk and sitting down. “What brings you here, Leliana? I’m happy to see you, of course, but I’m not in a fine state to chat.”

The Spymaster set the tray down and uncovered the plates, revealing a sizeable dinner for both and a bottle of wine. “It’s my fault.” She sighed “I shouldn’t have gotten involved, and I did not handle it as gently as I should have. I should know better than to try these things when I’m not at my best.”

Ghost tilted his head “What’s your fault?”

Leliana handed him a plate and a full wine glass in quick succession “It’s Orlesian, they have the best wines. I picked something sweet, I do hope you don’t mind.” She sat, having pulled up another chair and prodded at the stew distractedly “I talked to Cullen about you two today.” She admitted, looking up. She wished after all these years her stomach wouldn’t clench at the sight of hurt or sadness, but it did, especially from someone as genuine as the Inquisitor.

“Oh.”

She didn’t flinch. Fighting down guilt was easier than all emotion.

“I tried to get him to take the next step. Maker knows you both danced around enough.”

“Wait, you…Didn’t warn him off?”

Leliana frowned “I didn’t try to. I know he’s been interested in men occasionally. He just said-.”

“He couldn’t offer me anything more than friendship.” Ghost mused bitterly “Which is fine. I just wish he’d have actually cut all the ties. Why not just say he didn’t like men? Letting someone down easy is one thing, setting them almost all the way down then leaving is irksome.”

Leliana chewed thoughtfully as Ghost took a sip of wine, cracking a small smile “I do like it. Thank you. But you don’t need to do this because some boy hurt my feelings.” He intoned, a slight twist to his lips indicating the joke.

“He used to be interested in men. At least, sometimes.” Leliana muttered biting delicately into a roll. “I misjudged how far he’s come. I don’t think he’d be ready for male companionship for a while. I’m sorry again, Herald.”

“Just, call me Ghost, and we’ll call it even.”

“Hardly professional.”

“Call me Ghost in private then, Lady Nightingale.”


	2. Solas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghost is pretty sure people have 'types' and he's pretty sure his is 'mental issues.'

“Ah Syl’din!” The other elf called.

Ghost winced and walked over to Solas. “Hello, Solas. Is everything okay?”

“Quite. I just wanted to inquire about an area in the Hinterlands, see, an artifact of my people used to measure the veil is located there, and I wondered if you might bring me along when next you leave?”

His stare was so…Intense. Ghost wasn’t quite sure what Solas’s game was, but he’d been incredibly intense for weeks now. And he wasn’t quite sure if he was being used or seduced. Or some twisted fusion of both. Nevertheless, his traitorous heart sped up whenever Solas looked at him like that.

Ghost smiled and nodded, and as he turned to walk away, a calloused hand caught his wrist, making him stop and turn back. “I-Is everything alright?” His voice may have skipped an octave. And if he was blushing there was no way to hide it. His father had named him Syl’din for a reason. Primarily the white skin, white hair, and near translucent eyes. His keeper had been convinced he was blind until his mother, a former city elf, had shown he did see things, by playing a game of peekaboo. His City Elf mother had never fully grasped Elvhen, and called him Ghost, saying it was cuter than “Dead Breath” which Ghost was inclined to agree with. Point being, if he was blushing, his whole body was red and he was doomed.

“I just wished to offer you my thanks, Syl’Din.”

Creators he did that on purpose. He watched a smile curl about the other elfs face as the heat of his skin took over. Hastily tugging his wrist away from the elf he stammered out “No Pro-Problem. Bye.” And hurriedly turned away, walking to the Chantry using a shortcut.

“He’s quite forward.”

Ghost involuntarily let out a low groan “Dorian. How are you this afternoon?”

The Tevinter man had been kind enough to not ambush him in eyesight or earshot of Solas, so, he could be civil, and not sprint to the Chantry and beg use of Leliana’s chambers to curl up and die in.

“Concerned, primarily. How long has he been doing that?”

Ghost looked at the man, dumbfounded “Doing what?”

Dorian barked out a short laugh, no humor present “Why, seducing you for favors. Or making you so uncomfortable you just agree. Just that.”

Ghost sighed and shook his head “You noticed?”

Dorian reached out, and for a brief moment Ghost feared he was about to be given one of ‘those’ touches. The caress of the face, or a hand sliding up or down his arm. The forced intimacy would probably be enough to make him cry. And he didn’t particularly want to cry in front of Dorian, no matter how nice the man was. But he needn’t have worried. Dorians hand fell solidly on his shoulder and squeezed, his ridiculous mustache tilting up with his smirk.

“I’d be concerned if nobody did. He’s making no secret of it.”

Ghost frowned “I don’t get it. He’s never acted interested. And it’s only been in the last few weeks he’s started this. I don’t think he means to be…unkind. I really don’t understand it at all.”

Dorian sighed and clapped his other hand down on the other shoulder, rubbing briskly in a way that shook Ghost and made him smile. “Well, you’ll work it out. And we’re all here to help. Literally. That’s why we’re here. In the meantime. Why not catch up with Varric? Surely he has some batch of comedic lies for you? It’ll be good for morale, Varric Tethras, Storytime.”

Ghost snorted. “Sounds good. I might do that. But, in the meantime, I need to check in with Josephine. We have a few missives to go over, and I need to check on how the delegation to my Clan went. Then there’s this noble house that just won’t stop bothering us.”

Dorian laughed, the sound infinitely happier. It made Ghost feel a bit warm inside, he violently crushed the feeling. It had been three weeks since he and Cullens exchange, and now with Solas acting weird, he had no time to be damaging more relationships. Besides, he liked Dorian. And if how his friendship with Cullen had changed was any indication, his feelings usually got in the way. Perhaps he’d just chat with the merc group he’d brought on. Iron Bull seemed pretty uncomplicated, Krem was nice.

“Go, play with your wartable figures.” Dorian sighed with a flourish, gesturing at the Chantry. “Shoo, away with you.”

Ghost smiled “Thanks, Dorian. I’ll see you at dinner?”

“Is that what you call the time of the grey soup? Because yes.”

Ghost snorted again and walked to the Chantry, feeling infinitely better.

 

Dorian, however, had a plan now. Turning on his heel and walking out from around the house he saw Solas staring at the breach, with a cheeky wave he trotted down the stairs and continued until he reached the tavern. He considered going inside, if only for a moment, but thought better of it and continued on to Varric.

“My favorite dwarf! Right where you always are, so surprising, do you have a moment?”

Varric looked up from his book. Evidently the dwarf had been taken some time from his almost continuous paperwork to relax. Dorian almost felt bad.

“What is it, Sparkler? If it’s about steam heat, we don’t have the setup for it. Unless you have a room full of gold hidden somewhere?”

“Ah, no. It’s not about the horrid weather. It’s about our hobo.”

“Chuckles? What’d he do? Bore someone to death?”

Dorians mustache twitched with the restrained smile breaking free. “Quite the opposite. I fear he’s killng our dear Herald with an overabundance of energy.”

“Wait! They’re?”

“No! Oh, Maker no. I don’t think they’ve ever truly considered the other like that. I didn’t want to either. You owe me a drink. And some form of mental cleansing.”

“There there, Sparkler. Wanna touch the chest hair? It helps.”

“Hard pass.”

“Ah, nobody believes me until it’s too late.”

“Anyway, before this got as moronic as it did. Solas has been…Flirting.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Varric looked torn between confusion, and full author mode. “Okay, why’s it a problem.”

“Well, mostly, he doesn’t mean it, and he’s terrible at it. It’s more seduction than flirting, and poor Ghost looks about ready to jump out of his skin whenever Solas addresses him.”

“Aw, shame. After how he and Curly ended their…Thing. I thought he might like something like that.”

Dorian shook his head. “Maybe if he meant it. And wasn’t coming off like a stalker…”

“Sparkler, I have an idea.”

“What, Varric?”

Varric leaned in. “Tell Curly about it.”

 

 

Cullen walked with the others behind Ghost and Solas through the uncharted Frostbacks.

“Hmmm. Still nothing?”

Cullen sighed, turning to the man beside him. “Haven exploded. I haven’t had time to lecture Solas for being ‘creepy’.”

Up ahead Solas reached out to lightly touch Ghost’s arm. The man flinched, and promptly lit up the precise color of Satinalia punch.

Sera’s distinctive laugh cut in, causing both Cullen and Dorian to skitter to the side, barely restraining shocked cries. Cullens hand landed on his sword, and Dorian was breathing heavily, one hand pressed to his heart.

“Solas bein’ weird again, yeah? Always touching. Ghostie don’t like that shite.”

Cullen sighed “He enjoys being touched, but he prefers to place the sensation in categories. Solas is freaking him out.”

“And that, Krem, is how you indicate complete disinterest.” Bull rumbled from the side, causing Cullen and Dorian to whip around once more.

“Makers breath. Everybody is ambushing me today.” Cullen sighed, suddenly, narrowing his eyes and looking around rapidly. He glared at Bull “Except Krem. Who is nowhere near here.”

“Hey, sometimes, you need to think you’re being watched.”

Sera cackled manically.

“Look, you can all back off. I’ll talk to him once we reach wherever we’re going.”

 

Solas knocked on the Inquisitors door, about two weeks after they’d arrived at Skyhold.

Ghost answered, flushed, and invited him in with an air of reluctance.

Solas sighed and grimaced. But as he was opening his mouth to say something his eyes fell on the bed. With the covers turned down, and a stack of books and food on top. It was clear the Inquisitor and Dorian had been in bed studying. Likely due to the Tevinters lack of tolerance for the cold. He knew it was Dorian from the food selection, the book selection, and the vint still currently in the bed.

Said vint looked up, quirked a smile and slid from under the covers. Snatching a book he waltzed out “I’ll be on the landing by the birds. Let me know when you’ve finished.” He called over his shoulder, boots held in one hand, book in the other.

“Solas, is everything okay?” Ghost asked, staring keenly after Dorian as if the mans leaving had been an insult.

“I.” He cleared his throat. “Forgive me. It has come to my attention that I have been remiss in our dealings.”

“Oh?”

“I saw that you flirted with Dorian, and thought you might enjoy the same with me. I fear I am not inclined to your tells, I thought the blushing was good.”

“So, you didn’t mean any of it?”

“Does that upset you?”

“I..A little. It wasn’t joking, like Dorian and I. It was uncomfortable. I think it makes it worse that you meant nothing by it, to be honest.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Just make sure you don’t keep doing it. I’d be fine with flirting, just…Don’t get so intense. It was pretty weird.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Ghost cocked his head “Wait, somebody told you?”

“The Commander, in fact. He was quite bothered that I was behaving falsely. Though I meant no harm. I wish you would have told me not to touch you.”

“It was only unwelcome because it was confusing.” Ghost assured. “If that’s all, you could send Dorian back in, he’s likely frozen. You can stay if you’d like. We are just reading some books on magic we found in the lower library.”

Solas smiled “I’ll pass. You enjoy yourselves though.”


	3. The Iron Bull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I screwed up and wrote seven pages and never went to bed. 
> 
> Dorian is pretty jealous of Bull, even when the relationship ends.
> 
> Cullens finally admitting a few things.
> 
> Josephine is getting a bit protective of their elf.
> 
> And Ghost just wants to successfully love someone without feeling like he's ruined everything.

Dorian groaned into his pillow. Even with his face buried he couldn’t escape the sunlight creeping through the window. He’d tried. It was quite hard to breathe with his face buried in the soft pillow.

Worse yet was the sound of steel on steel outside. The Commander had his soldiers training already.

And one step up the terrible scale was the Iron Bulls loud laughter, and Krems howled compliments as Ghost took Dalish down again. There were so many sarcastic comments about the unfairness of pitching a mage and an archer against each other that Dorian was well and thoroughly ill.

Ghost finally courting someone who wasn’t terrible was supposed to be a relief. His friend was happy! Sure, he was entirely convinced Dorian was just a flirty man, despite actively trying to flirt seriously. So while Ghost still made time for him, all of them in fact, he was single minded in his pursuit of Bull.

Dorian gave him credit. The man never left his friends behind. He’d just abruptly stopped with even the joking flirtations between them, and, well. Maybe Dorian was a bit more invested then he thought he was. The sickly bubbling jealousy was a new, uncomfortable sensation.

As a result, when he wasn’t laying face down in bed wishing he was The Iron Bull, of all people, chatting about magical theory with Ghost, throwing books down to Solas, or holding partially petrified conversations with Leliana. Whom by the way, still seemed sore that Ghost wasn’t with _Cullen_ , Dorian spend most days with the Commander himself. Much to the blondes discomfort.

So, like the reasonable, jealous human being he was, Dorian got out of bed, and spent approximately fifteen minutes fixing his hair and applying some kohl, then brushing his mustache into place. Contrary to popular belief, taking hours to prepare oneself was simply not him. That amount of inefficiency smacked of someone who didn’t know what they were doing. More often than not the myth came from him falling asleep at the vanity due to the unreasonable hour he was expected to awake.

And then he swept from the room, experiencing the dual weirdness of being both unspeakably jealous, and happy at hearing two of his close friends enjoying themselves. Maker he was going to die.

Cullen didn’t even look up when he burst into the room, swept the book he’d been reading off the shelf and slid into _his_ chair. The Commander had just began sharing desk space after this had happened more than twice a week.

“How was your night, Dorian?”

“My night was wonderful, my morning was not.”

Cullen looked up, a thoughtful expression on his face “Is it morning practice? You could requisition some ear plugs. Or ask for a new room. I know you hate yours.”

Dorian shrugged. Uncharacteristically quiet. Warring emotions warring again.

“Are you alright?”

Dorian just sighed through his nose.

“Maker are you dying? Did somebody die?”

“Commander, your sass, while usually appreciated, isn’t right now.”

Cullen frowned, reaching over to gently touch the mages wrist where it rested on the table. “Hey, Dorian, if you would ever like to talk, I’m here.”

“Not sure you’d enjoy that conversation.” Dorian murmured. Face flushing slightly.

“Oh Maker.”

“What?”

Cullen sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re blushing. I’m afraid now I have to ask.”

“It’ll be awkward.”

“Dorian, I’m nearly holding your hand. If a scout walks in now, Leliana is going to skin me, and Josephine will likely help. It doesn’t get more awkward.”

“I…Think, I’m… Interested, in someone.”

“Oh. That’s great, who is he?”

“I realize it’s….He?”

“Not a surprise Dorian, I’m not an imbecile. You’ve been mooning over Ghost for months. Oh.”

Dorians groan was partially a snarl. He pulled his hand away and laid his head in the desk. “I’m an asshole.”

“What? No! That’s, I mean you _can_ be. But usually you’re very sweet, and I’ll just…Not. So tell me about it.”

“Commander do you have a crush on me?” Dorian joked faintly, looking up in time to watch Cullens already impressive blush deepen and creep down his neck.

“N-No!”

Dorian narrowed his eyes and sat up straight.

“You’re an attractive man! I mean, I noticed, but I don’t think of you..Like…So, you’re interested in Ghost?”

Dorian narrowed his eyes and gave up the topic for the moment. “I can’t handle it. I’ve never been this enamored of anybody. And he’s with Bull. Bull is my friend, Ghost is my friend, but I rather want a bit more from one of those.”

“ _Enamored.”_

“Yes, _enamored.”_

“Oh. No, just that word again.” Cullen cleared his throat. “So, this is the part where I give advice, correct?”

Dorian laid back down on the desk. “If you must. But I’m not showering him in puppies.”

“Mabari are fantastic gifts, they’re loyal, and-“

“I’m _so_ sorry. Just…Move on.”

Cullen sighed “I’ve been interested in people before, but twice in my life I felt like I might love someone. And I said nothing both times. Well, noting correct. I told one she was a monster, and told the second I was uninterested in a romantic relationship, and I’ll always regret those.”

“This sounds like an old man story. Are you an old man?”

“No, you arse.”

“Are we just ignoring the blatant reference to how the second example is clearly our own Inquisitor Syl’din?”

“You know what Dorian? You are.”

“Wait, you actually-“

“Yes. Now shut up.”

Dorian obediently clicked his teeth together.

“Now. I cannot take either of those back. But I ran away from Ghost, because I thought I had valid reasons. In truth, I was making excuses. But I’ll always regret it, not telling him his feelings were returned. Instead, I lied to make him happy, maybe not then, but in the long run. I broke whatever trust we had, and reset our friendship. Ghost is going to notice that you’ve changed. He notices the way people touch him, and one day, you’ll put a hand on his shoulder and it’ll be too soft.”

“Well, this is a horrible future.”

“Tell him. He’ll be upset if you don’t.”

“Just, drop that on him?”

“Yes. And then do whatever he wants you to. If he says nothing changes, fine, but you have to step back if he wants it.”

Dorian sat up straight and rubbed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Curse you, you’re right. Shame, I do enjoy my intricate web.”

Later that day, as the sun was falling, Cullen shooed Dorian from his office. Dorian placed his book back on the shelf, and left with his new batch of notes. Perhaps he’d stop by the Heralds Rest and get some of that terrible…passible, good, Ferelden ale. Deciding that was the best course of action, Dorian swept into the tavern first and walked to the bar.

Of course, as he entered, Bull and Ghost exited, a tension through the elf. The two separated as they walked. The light blue of the inquisitors vallaslin more steel than sky as his skin flushed.

 

Maybe two drinks then.

 

The next day, nursing a hangover, Dorian decided to take it easy. Downing a potion and retreating to Cullens office. He had planned on the library today, but he just couldn’t handle the ravens.

“No, I’ve said nothing. I’m also very hungover.”

Cullen shot him a sympathetic look and continued paperwork.

 

To be honest, Dorian knew the Commander was right. It just never seemed to be the time. If Ghost was gushing about Bull, as much as the normally reserved elf could gush, Dorian couldn’t just jump n with “Oh, how nice. I’m madly in love with you, did you know? Likely not, I don’t want you to necessarily dump your lover, but I’d prefer it, how do you feel about this?” He imagined the next few lines would be “Why did you hit me?” and “Where are you going?”

 

Three days later found him in the library, scratching away at a piece of parchment.

“Dorian?”

He jolted at the sound of Josephines voice. To be honest, he wasn’t sure he’d ever known the woman to leave her office. “Lady Montilyet, what can I do for you?”

“I. That is, an interesting question.” She shuffled from foot to foot.

“Josephine, is everything alright?” Dorian asked, rising from his chair in concern.

“Oh! It’s simply. The Inquisitor has not come down for lunch, and both The Iron Bull and Leliana say he is overtired. I was worried he took ill, but thought you would know how best to…”

“Oh, check on him?”

“Yes. And you are familiar with his taste in food, so I thought you might bring something up to him.”

 

There was no need however, as Dorian and a tray opened the Inquisitors door, he almost ran into the man walking down. He was stiff, and for a moment Dorians heart cracked, just a little at the obvious cause. But then he noticed the Inquisitors face. He looked tired, confused, and frustrated all at once.

“Oh, Ghost, I have food.”

Lavellan looked up at the human and if anything felt _worse_ for wondering if he would be this distraught with confusion if this human was his lover.

“I’m… I’m not hungry, Dorian. Thank you for your concern.” He murmured, sidestepping Dorian, careful not to brush against him, and set off down the way, leaving Dorian standing next to an open door with a tray of food.

Dorian attempted to ignore that particular pain.

It didn’t work.

That night he decided to head to the tavern once more, tensing a bit as he heard Bull call out to Ghost as he entered. Why did Bull need to live here? Really. Unfair.

“Bull, I want to talk about us.”

Dorian honestly didn’t want to hear this, but with Bulls skills, fleeing the room, even moving down the bar, would illicit some form of response. So he just ordered another drink.

“What..What we did. If it’s….Conscious, could it be different?”

“What? Like I’m a farmboy and you’re the ruthless Inquisitor-“

Dorian drowned out the rest of whatever that was with exceedingly loud gulps that made the bartender look at him. Look at the couple in the corner, and hand Dorian another drink.

Oh joy. The cranky bartender was taking pity on him. He felt so good about himself.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m sure that works for other people. I like you Bull.”

“I like you too Boss.” Bull sounded genuinely disappointed.

“But, I need some say in my needs. I don’t like people making decisions about me, without me, really. I think it’s best if we, don’t. I’m…I’m so sorry, Bull.”

“It’s alright Boss. We’re better off as friends if that’s how you feel, no hard feelings?”

“None on my end. For what it’s worth, I wish I was different.”

“I think you mean, ‘it.’”

“No.”

And with that Ghost Lavellan tuned and slunk out of the tavern, looking keenly distressed.

“Vint. Come ‘ere.”

Dorian took one look at the tankard and his stomach rolled. Too upset to drink? New experience. He obediently walked to Bull though.

“You heard that?”

“I tried not too.”

Bull nodded slowly “I don’t mind. He might. But you made a call. I saw you trying not to hear, if that makes you feel better.”

“It does, actually.” Dorian murmured in relief. Nerves too fried to be witty or arrogant. Now he was just tired.

“Glad I could do that for someone.” Bull sighed leaning back. “My goal was to relax him, not stress him out. As you heard, it went poorly.”

“He seems pretty upset.”

“Yeah. I fucked that up. Do me a favor, Big Guy?”

“I…Sure.”

“If you two end up together, be good to him.”

“What?”

“You heard me. And, one more thing.” Bull added thoughtfully.

“Yes?”

“Maybe go check on him. He needs a friend.”

 

Dorian did go check on Ghost. He’d had to let himself in. Then he’d needed to do so again for the second door the Inquisitor had placed at the top of the stairs with a wall in place of the balcony (It’s too open. I can hear the throne room no matter what time! And the birds!).

He found the elf half undressed, sitting on his bed, face in his hands, and body wracking with sobs.

“Ghost? I came to check on you.”

“Leave.” Hs voice was a soft rattle followed shortly by a sob.

“Ghost?”

“Leave!”

Ghost shouting was reserved for Cole falling when fighting a High Dragon. Having it turned on him would have hurt if he couldn’t now see the tear streaked face, and red rimmed eyes. The pale eyes themselves were red and aggravated, likely from rubbing at them. And that was enough.

“I don’t think I will.”

Ghost choked on another sob, trying to find something to yell, but found himself wrapped up in a hug as the Tevinter slid in with him. It was awkward at first. Dorian had no experience with hugs or comfort. But they worked it out. In the end, Ghost had no more pride, burying his face in the bare shoulder and losing himself in the scent of musk and spice as he cried. Dorians fingers combing through his hair, soft shushing noises made every time the shaking or crying became too profound.

“Am I just unloveable?” He whispered, exhausted, after what may have been hours. “I ruin everything.”

“You’re many things.” Dorian murmured, pressing his face into the elfs hair. “I love you. Cullen loves you. Leliana loves you, and did you know Josephine came to find me just so I could bring you food today? You had her worried, she loves you. You’re very loveable.”

“Don’t say you love me.”

“Why not?”

Ghosts eyes were falling shut, clearly having cried himself out. “I ruin everything.”

He was out. Dorian grimaced and shuffled the Inquisitor out of his lap. Hesitating before reaching for his clothes and helping to strip the poor man. Nobody should sleep in something that tight.

Ghost came too several minutes into the project, weakly panicking for a moment while Dorian explained what he’d been trying to do.

“Top drawer.” Ghost croaked, gesturing at his wardrobe, Dorian noticed two small drawers. Upon fishing for a moment he pulled out a soft, giant pair of sleep pants. Handing them to Ghost, who’d evidently decided to strip everything else off, Dorian looked away. He’d seen a love bite or two. Bruises on his hips, and he didn’t want to think about how he wished he was the one to leave them when he was already concerned about his friend.

Ghost pulled on the pants, which probably could have fir another elf or so, and tied the top loosely.

He crawled back into bed and laid there.

“Can I get you anything?”

Ghost murmured. “Unless you want to run me a bath, just being here is fine.” His eyes snapped open again “Not that you need to! I just…” He looked so lost for a moment.

“How about I run you a bath, run to mine quick and stay here? Hmm. I’ll even take the couch.”

Ghost didn’t say anything, so Dorian just cranked the handles for whatever it was Dagna had rigged up and was soon telling the Inquisitor he’d be back shortly.

He scooped up some lotion from his own possessions, as well as some clothing, and stopped by the kitchen for water.

Ghost was back in his pants when he returned, and the elf shuddered happily while applying lotion to his dried out skin. Just as happy for some water. Dorian busied himself changing, then simply sat with the elf a bit. When he went to stand, Ghost grabbed his wrist.

“The bed is big. You can sleep here if you want.” He rasped.

Dorian, after a seconds deliberation slid into the cocoon of blankets, Ghost following.

For a few moments, they simply faced each other awkwardly. Ghost partially curled up and miserable, Dorian unsure of how to care for his friend. Before he lifted an arm in invitation, and found an elf pressed up against him.

Smiling slightly, Dorian wrapped Ghost in his embrace and pressed his face to white hair once more. He could be jealous and angsty later. Right now, his best friend needed to be cuddled and comforted.

He’d let Josephine know tomorrow that the Inquisitor needed a day.

She wouldn’t object.

In fact, Dorian had a sneaking suspicion that if he said Ghost was sad, she’d shank people with her quill to keep them away.


	4. Dorian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally
> 
> Then angst
> 
> Then finally
> 
> Then something I didn't see coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First. I didn't expect this to take the turn it did. Syl'din/Ghost flew off the rails and self destructed and most of this was trying to fix him up a bit. I sort of broke my character on accident. But it got better!
> 
> For the first bit you'll see some twisty turney things involving the Demands of the Qun choice. While Inquisition is amazing, it is impossible for a game to accurately respond to situations without stranding you in the "make the right choice or the world ends" trap. As somebody who studies history and politics, the Chargers surviving was laughably easy. And I'd never met them the first playthrough. I get a kick out of all of the "politically savvy" Inquisitors sacrificing them for the alliance. When in reality, that's the last thing anybody resembling politically savvy would do. Bioware gave us two gimmes, good, solid choices, backed up by personal preference. Saving the chargers, and sacrificing Stroud.
> 
> And me trying to explain how horribly guilty people feel doing good things, for what they perceive to be bad, or impersonal reasons is a mix of personal experiences and watching others deconstruct from doing so.
> 
> In short. I screwed up. Wrote thirteen pages, waxed poetic and got really political/philosophical.
> 
> Also, Dorian is my favorite, tied with Cullen. I did not react this way when playing the game. But as I said. Ghost took a sharp nosedive, and I only managed to fish him out in the end.
> 
> So, enjoy.
> 
> Tl;Dr: I used history and actual politics for the Chargers decision, Used some personal experience in doing the right thing for impersonal reasons, I love Dorian and this isn't how I reacted in game. Ghost hit a downward spiral and it took forever to pull him out.

A solid _year_ passed.

Ghost had progressed far into his diplomatic training. Often spending hours sequestered with Josephine.

 

Because he was politically conscious, the Chargers lived through a mess on the Storm Coast.

 

Dorian had asked him once if it had been more personal, or political. Ghost had admitted that while he liked the Chargers, it was political. Some half wit had confronted him the week before on the subject, and the elf had nearly lit him on fire.

“Nobody with an ounce of diplomacy would sacrifice a beloved troupe.” He’d snarled “To ally with a people who cannot offer you anything directly.” A jab to the chest “That is hated even more than Tevinter.” He’d stepped back “It would crush morale, sever ties with at least Ferelden and Orlais, ruin our reputation among any merc bands. And, ruin my position as trustworthy leader.”

He’d been so done with the conversation that he’d simply retreated.

Josephine was proud as could be.

“It takes a skilled negotiator to realize numbers and information are worthless when you lose more than you gain.” She’d near purred.

“But, a full blown alliance with the Qunari, and no, I cannot believe I’m saying this, but wouldn’t it have helped?” Dorian had asked.

Josephine had tapped her quill to her lips, still upturned in the most smug expression Dorian had ever seen her wear.

“In fact, it may have ruined us.”

“Surely differences could be put aside when there is an ancient magister running amok?”

Josephine had become positively giddy “Oh, maybe. But not on a personal level.”

“Look, as _delightfully_ vague as this is-.”

“You cannot sacrifice your soldiers on a whim, Dorian. The Chargers are a well-loved company. The Qunari are hated. Had we accepted the alliance, and killed the Chargers, Ferelden, Orlais, past patrons of the company, and other mercenary bands, not to mention the soldiers under our Commander, will have had their trust broken. All for an alliance that cannot provide soldiers, a spy network we already have half of, and supplies that cannot be shipped.”

She leaned forward, still clearly enjoying herself “Most only look at the basics, the numbers, the promises. But our dearest Ghost managed to put together long term repercussions, and kept his emotions out of it in a split second. Oh, I wish he’d come with me to Antiva after this, I could use someone like that in my cabinet.”

Dorian, having spent most of his life avoiding the life and death game of politics, had to admit he was grudgingly impressed as well. Also a bit frightened. This time, it had been more beneficial to the Inquisition to save someone. He had no doubt Ghost was relieved, but still. What if the next time it was more beneficial to sacrifice them. An alliance with Orlais, or Ferelden needing to be strengthened. Battles got messy, Ghost might not want it to happen, but if he was focused elsewhere and a group died. Judging from what Josephine had described, and Ghosts emotions, the loss of any group might not matter.

He shook his head. He didn’t want to dwell on it. He’d never thought somebody making the correct choice, resulting in morally good results…Well, he never thought it could be that frightening.

 

“Are you upset I saved them?” Ghost asked later, picking at his food. “It seems like everybody has some congratulatory statement, or some ill informed criticism. But you’ve said nothing.”

Dorian opted for honesty “It frightens me.” He admitted.

Ghost smiled his small smile. “Good. It scared me as well. I didn’t save the Chargers because I liked them. I wish I could have. But that would have been wrong. I saved them because it was the correct political move. Krem tried to thank me, you know.”

Dorian grimaced “How’d that go?”

“I frowned. Bull herded him away, said he understood.” Ghost placed both elbows on the table between them, buried his face  in his hands, sighing loudly. “How do you accept thanks for something you didn’t do? I saved nobody. I defended the Inquisitions interests. Their lives were a pleasant side benefit.”

“But you did the same in the Fallow Mire.”

“A direct challenge to authority, and bragging that they’d caught our people? I’m glad they lived. But again, it wasn’t for them. Nothing is for people anymore, and I hate it. Closing rifts is at least cathartic. I’m saving the world. I’m helping people. Somehow, the rifts are the one thing not for the Inquisition, and yet, they’re the reason we’re here.”

“You’re quite broken up about this.”

“It’s one thing to play with the lives of those I don’t know. I can tell a group of people to scout something no problem. I know it’s dangerous, but it’s abstract. I just hate standing there, staring at people I’ve helped, and realizing I’m someone Sera should be firing arrows at.”

Dorian stood and shuffled around the table, hesitating a moment, before draping his arm over the elfs shoulders as he sat next to him, pulling him into a one armed hug. “You aren’t cruel. Stop being so hard on yourself. I’ve seen you agonize over scouting missions. You’re in there yet.”

“We need to go to Adamant.” Ghost sighed, leaning into the other mage.

“This is probably the most you’ve ever spoken.”

A small smile returned “I’ve been told to use my words.”

“Ah, may I speak for a moment?”

“Always Dorian.”

Dorian took a deep breath “I’ve been attempting to tell you something for over a year.”

“Ominous.”

“Oh, hush you. I love you.” He’d said it countless times. But for once he felt his chest constrict when he said it. For once he wasn’t simply saying he loved his best friend.

“You’ve said that.” Ghost said with a small chuckle.

“I…”

Ghost stiffened looking up, but he didn’t shift from the human. “Are you telling me now to make me feel better, or are you guilty?”

Dorians mouth fell open at the cold look in Ghost’s eyes. “I was going to tell you. But after Bull… You didn’t want that. So I was your friend. I just thought it was finally time to tell the truth.”

At that Ghost did sit up. “So, you’ve just been biding your time?”

Dorian looked hurt “Of course not! You’re my best friend. I have precious few friends. I never wanted to lose that.”

Ghosts face crumpled into the vulnerable Inquisitor of the former year. “I’ve always felt something for you. I’d look at you, and think ‘what if it was him instead?’ But… I’m not who you want anymore. I won’t inflict myself on you.”

Dorian groaned and used his other arm to pull him into an embrace, knowing the elfs face was probably making uncomfortable contact with a buckle or two. “You do not ruin everything. In fact, you ruin remarkably few things.” He murmured, kissing the top of the elfs head.

“Give me a few days to think. If I can do this.”

“Nothing needs to change.” Dorian rushed “This… Isn’t done in Tevinter, I can be your friend, or, well. I’ve been a port in a storm before.”

“But if I want to start ruining fewer things, I should probably start with your heart. I won’t go in for halves. I’m either in this, or not. I won’t use you.” And with that, Ghost had slid from his grip and was already out the door by the time Dorian could react.

 

A few days turned into a month, and Dorian was pretty sure he had the Inquisitors answer. He was also pretty sure he saw him with Sera and Cole more than ever. He was pretty sure Cole was helping whatever seemed to have taken hold of the Inquisitor in the last year. Sera, in her own way was too.

 

After Adamant, Cole and Syl’Din Lavellan vanished for a week. Morale hit an all-time low. Solas took to drinking tea in between bouts of dreaming, searching. Everybody fell apart in their own way.

During that week, Zevran Arainai arrived at Skyhold.

“Ah, my dear Leliana, we’ve done this before. The heroes always return. Unless of course, they are assassinated. So, my meaning is, the hero usually comes back, yes?”

Leliana snorted into her wine “And sometimes they come back with the failed assassin and set them to polishing armor.”

“That was uncalled for.”

“He almost killed you.”

“I like to think I’m too awesome to die.”

“He had you tied up, he almost blasted your face off when you offered to sleep with him.”

Cullen, sitting with only Blackwall between him and the assassin nearly spat his wine back nto his cup “Pardon me?”

The assassin shrugged “Well, he took me up on it.”

“Once the dog liked you.”

“Fereldens, so quaint.”

Dorian snorted and nodded, receiving a deeply offended look from Cullen.

“Dogs are good, yeah? They know good people.” Sera chimed in.

“They’re also good at finding cake.” Leliana said thoughtfully “Mabari are truly great judges of character.”

Sera cackled and returned to her conversation with Varric. Hawke, next to Varric, naturally, had two hands fisted in his hair.

“Oh Maker he’s _so_ mad.”

“I’m sure Broody will forgive you.” Varric offered in amusement.

“It’s…He wrote several insults do violently he tore the parchment. I escaped the nightmare only to die by my favorite glowing elf.”

“I’d better be.” A low voice ground out as the door opened and Fenris, Syl’Din, and Cole filed in. Looking like they’d been traveling rough for several days.

Cole and Ghosts customary seats were open, and Varric switched so Fenris was in optimum striking distance of Hawke.

“We met on the road.” Ghost said in favor of explanation, digging into his food as he dished it onto his plate.

Ghost clearly wasn’t talking any more than need be. So most of the table just enjoyed him being back. Dorian gave him a cursory once over before following suit and turning his eyes to his food. Conversation slowly crawled back to its casual state.

Once the noise level was back to what Ghost deemed appropriate he turned his eyes to Dorian. And after a few moments reached under the table to lightly touch his leg. Never happier that Dorian sat directly on his left side.

The mage looked up, startled and questioning. And all Ghost could do was squeeze slightly, smile, and mouth “Yes.”

 

A month later found Dorian pressing his mouth eagerly against any exposed skin he could while the elf struggled out of his leggings.

“You aren’t _helping_!” He cried in distress, exasperation coming through clearly.

Within what seemed like the next three seconds his leggings were on the ground, his back was on the bed, and his legs were in a bizarrely decadent position, Dorians eyes feverish and bright above him.

“Creators you’re useful when you want to be.” Was not what he’d intended his last coherent sentence of the night to be.

 

Tired on a bone deep level was all the Inquisitor could describe this feeling as. Resting heavily on the balcony, the sounds of a party inside raging a few weeks later.

“Morrigan is joining us, apparently.” Came one of his favorite voices from behind. “She didn’t want to disturb you. Not the slightest idea what she thought you were doing.” The sound of a body reclining next to him.

“Speaking of not sure what you’re doing, a nobleman was looking for you, something about a multitude of daughters. I told him you’d left. You’re welcome, and I accept payment n soap and sexual favors.” A beat “Are you alright?”

“Just keep talking. What’s happening inside?”

“Well, Celene and Briala are doing a fantastic job of only being seen from the chest up, likely so nobody can see them holding hands. The nobles are eating ham that tastes like despair, or some such nonsense. It reminds me of despair demons. What do you think demons taste like? I mean, clearly if ham tastes of despair, despair must taste like ham.”

Ghost snorted.

“Hush. You said to keep talking. Solas looks beside himself with joy, he’s clearly fond of the change of scenery. On a concerning level actually. Frighteningly into it, very intense. He’s doing an excellent impression of a wild eyed hobo, and who let him _near_ the hats?”

Ghost opened his eyes and tilted his head to smile at the other mage. “I love you, so much.”

Dorians mustache twitched as a smile crept up. Dorian reached out, placing an arm around the Inquisitor, pulling him close. “’ll admit, I’m quite fond of you as well.”

“Arse.”

“I’ve been called worse. You need to up your game.”

“Bastard.”

“Now that’s just a _lie_.”

“I’ll think of one. Just watch.”

“Shouldn’t I listen?”

“I hate you.”

Dorian laughed, clear and happy.

“I’m not sure Celene and Briala are best for Orlais.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow and looked down, meeting pale eyes looking up. “I’m sure you thought it through, Amatus. You always do.”

Ghost sighed happily and buried his face in the material of Dorians uniform, savoring the heat, the man ran well above any normal body temperature. He looked up again. “Celene didn’t need Briala.”

“I’m sure you had your reasons.”

“I wanted them to be happy.”

Slightly shocked Dorian looked down again, noting an uncharacteristically wide smile on the Inquisitors face as the elf started to laugh, a low happy noise.

“I did it, because I wanted them to be happy. It was unprofessional. It has benefits, but not many, especially not for Orlais. I made a decision on a personal level agan.”

Dorian grinned, squeezing the elf slightly. “And?”

“And?”

  
“How does it feel?”

Ghost lunged up for a brief kiss.  “Amazing.”

Dorian basked in his lovers enjoyment for a moment. “Dance with me?” rather than “I’m proud.” Came out when he opened his mouth next, and the Inquisitor accepted, buzzing with a restless joy all the while.

 

In the end, the Inquisitor managed to balance his politics and his heart once more. In part thanks to his desire to be someone worthy of loving Dorian, in his own words.

Dorian maintained he could be an illiterate, slobbish, nug farmer, and he’d still be fine.

 

When Corypheous fell, and the world rejoiced. The Inquisitor sat with his inner circle in their more private dining area after the necessary appearance was made. Still shying from large groups. Solas was gone. But Ghost bore him no ill will. He wished he’d gotten a goodbye, but he wished the other elf the best, and hoped they’d meet again.

Ghost wondered though, what would come now. His inner circle… Some would stay, but others needed to leave. And Ghost wasn’t entirely sure what he would do without Varric or Bull. Mostly, he didn’t know what to do about Dorian. Dorian whom he loved. Dorian who’d be countries away from him. Dorian who wouldn’t let him come with until he’d ‘fixed’ Tevinter.

Dorian who didn’t seem to realize that meant never. Dorian who broke his heart and didn’t even notice.

It was fitting, he thought, that in the end, the one who loved him in return left with no real promises. He said he’d stay for a while. But in the end, he might as well be gone, Ghost already felt it.

 

“Ghosties all mopey again.” Sera complained, sitting down heavily in the Tavern.

Dorian shrugged “He’ll tell us when he’s ready. Maybe he’s returning to his clan for a while and feels bad leaving while we’re here.”

Sera cackled “What a load of shite. You can’t leave without him. I mean, where you go he goes right?”

“Ah. No. Not this time.”

Sera narrowed her eyes “Wha’? I must be hearing things. Because I thought you just said you were leaving him behind while you went off to play scary magister with the other magister knobs.”

Dorian sighed, running one hand over his face “It’s just, something I need to do on my own.”

“But you’ll be back, right? You have to come back. _You said_ this was home.”

“I. Okay, yes. It is. But Tevinter is also my home. I can’t just abandon it.”

“No no no. You’re doing like _he_ did. Forgetting _people_.” And she leapt to her feet, hands over her ears as she walked away.

“She looked pissed. What’d you do big guy?” Bull asked, sliding into the vacated chair.

“As if you didn’t hear.”

“You’re right. I heard. I just wanted to hear ou say it again and see if it sounded stupid the second time.”

“It’s not stupid!” Dorian snapped “It’s just something I need to do on my own. I can’t rely on the Inquisitor to solve all my problems.”

“Well, yeah.” Bull said leaning in “But you can usually count on your partner to help you accomplish things. But what do I know? All this relationship crap is weird.”

“I think everybody is missing that the Inquisitor is my partner.” Dorian sighed “So it will always be the Inquisitor helping. Not my partner.”

Bulls visible eye narrowed like Sera’s had. “Thought you said you’d take care of him. Not dump him when his life was up in the air.”

“I’m not dumping him.”

“You’re right. My mistake. He’s not allowed to be a part of your life, or in the same country as you, clearly I should be waiting for a wedding invitation.”

With a disgusted noise Dorian rose and left the tavern.

 

“Do you think I’m leaving you?” Dorian asked upon u=entry to the Inquisitors shared quarters in place of a greeting.

“You’ve said you are.” Ghost replied absently, continuing what he was doing before someone entered. Mainly, sorting through clothing. He had two piles going. Clearly favoring lighter clothing for warm weather.

“Amatus, what are you doing?”

Ghost looked up again before returning to his sorting. “I’ve decided to return to Antiva with Josephine for a bit. Just to see what it’s like. Zevran was going to stop by before we left and give me a rundown on assassins. I think it’s for picking on my when I got back. Creators the man went white when I started crying. Pathetic that I did, really. Too tired.”

“Why Antiva?”

“What, too close to Tevinter? No need to worry, I promise I won’t cross the border. And I’ll come straight back here.” He murmured dryly, lifting a shirt and shaking it a bit, before sigustedly tossing it into the large pile of rejects.

 

“Amatus. You cannot think that I really want to be parted from you?”

 

Ghost sighed and set the next article across his lap. “What do you want, Dorian?”

 

“So it’s you or Tevinter then?”

 

Ghost snorted “Hardly. I want you to turn Tevinter on it’s ear.”

 

“Then what’s all this about. Talking to Sera and Bull about plans after this seems to indicate I’m leaving you.”

 

“You are. Literally, you’re leaving me.”

 

“In the physical sense. That doesn’t mean our relationship, ends, however.”

 

“You have a strange way of expressing that.”

 

“What are you even talking about?”

 

Ghost set another article of clothing in his lap and shot Dorian an unamused look. “Dorian. Usually ‘I’m leaving the country, I don’t know when I’ll see you again, don’t follow.’ Is ending a relationship. Now, I understand. I’ve been expecting it, but I would like to finish this sorting so I don’t need to do it again.”

“Amatus, you cannot possibly think that I _want_ -.”

“Just leave. Work out what you want to say, and come back if you feel like you’ve gotten the correct words.”

“But, you think that-.”

“I think what you’ve given me. Leave. Collect yourself.” Ghost cut across again. “I’m not the sad young elf that was head over heels for Cullen, or the pathetic mess that cried over Iron Bull. If you have something to say, put it together and say it.”

“I love you.”

“Get out.”

Dorian numbly stumbled out of the Inquisitors chambers and made his way to his room. Sitting heavily on the more often than not, unused bed and burying his face in his hands. He’d somehow managed to completely screw up one of the best things that had ever happened to him. Having his general instructions to Ghost spat back at him twice did sound damning. It wasn’t exactly what he’d meant however.

He wanted Ghost with him more than anything. But Tevinter, even for as skilled a mage as Ghost was, was dangerous for elves. He’d intended to keep in contact with the man until he’d gotten a strong enough following to push some form of bill through the magisterium making it at least slightly safer.

He didn’t want the Inquisitor standing there. It would sway people falsely. They would pass the bills then rebel, send assassins. If Dorian didn’t have a foothold of his own, everything would crash and burn, and it would be another age before somebody else got the courage to try and change things. He needed to do that part on his own.

He’d certainly never planned on being gone forever. He’d…

Dear Maker he was bad at communicating.

 

“You want _me_ , to write a _report_ , about your _intentions_ , to a man _I’m_ in love with, for _you_ , to fix your _relationship_ that you _ruined_?” The Commander repeated slowly.

“Now I feel like a bigger asshole.”

Cullen sighed and grabbed his inkwell, quill, and a sheet of parchment. “You’re an asshole and I’m pathetic. Talk. I’ll write.”

“Thank you. I don’t think you know how much this means. And I can only guess what doing it costs you.” Dorian murmured, an overwhelming wash of affection for the Commander creeping through his veins.

The Commander just grunted and tapped the parchment impatiently.

 

“Have you decided what you want to say?” Ghost murmured when Dorian entered his quarters two nights later.

 

Dorian groaned “First, I believe I would like to apologize. We’ve covered that I’m terrible at communicating my wants and needs, correct?”

Ghosts mouth curled into an involuntary smile. “Yes.”

Dorian presented the rolled up parchment with a flourish. “Everything I wanted to say is written here. It should explain most things.”

Ghost raised an eyebrow and unrolled the scroll. “This isn’t your hand.”

“Cullen wrote it.”

“Well. That’s certainly something.”

Dorian watched in trepidation as Ghosts eyes slid along the neat lines of writing.

“So. Someone finally found me a translation for Dorian Pavus. Bravo.”

Ghost sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well. Now I’m an asshole.”

“I think we share that. It makes us a great couple.” Dorian replied soothingly.

Ghost held the parchment up with one hand. “Just to be clear. This is what that terrible statement you kept making actually meant?”

Dorian wrinkled his nose “I quite realize it wasn’t phrased the best of ways. I’m sorry, Amatus.”

“And I’m sorry for thinking so little of you. I’ve always held you in high esteem. I’m unsure of where the lack of faith came in. But I’ll try to never react as such again.”

Dorians smile was quite sad “I don’t think you thought less of me Amatus. I think you still think you’re unloveable. You said as much. I just gave you the wrong wording at the wrong time.”

Ghost sighed, standing and walking to the mage, who opened his arms and swept the elf in. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry as well. I’ll need to apologize to Bull and Sera as well. They’re quite cross with me because of this as well.”

Ghost made a low growling noise “Silly of them to try and get involved.”

“They love you. It’s only natural. You’re Sera’s overly elfy brother, remember?”

Ghost snorted.

“And Bull seems to think you’re one of the Chargers. Probably because Dalish adopted you.”

“She’s only a few years older, why she wants to mother me is beyond comprehension.”

“Look, when you get drunk, and an elven mercenary publically declares the Inquisitor is her long lost child, we get to tease you.”

Dorian sighed though his nose. “There is one thing though.”

Ghost nuzzled into Dorians neck. “Mmhph?”

The mage swallowed reflexively. Making the elf flick his eyes up in concern. “It’s not exactly something I should tell you.”

“Should tell me?”

“You don’t have to be alone waiting for me. If you, even decide you want to.”

“We’ve covered that I do, in fact, want to.”

“You’ve always had a thing for the Commander.”

Ghost stepped back, looking puzzled “Dorian, he’s not interested, and I’m with you.”

“Cullen has been the driving force behind everything that got fixed for you.” Dorian cut across. “And he is, most certainly interested.”

“Dorian, I realize that I was unfair to you, but this is cruel and uncalled for. Is this a test? You want me to choose you over him? Fi-.”

He was cut off with a hand over his mouth. “I can share.”

Ghost glared ripping the hand off his mouth. “I cannot.”

Dorian frowned. “I feel like I wanted something out of this. But I don’t know what.”

The Inquisitor and his mage were silent for a while.

“I have an idea.” Ghost chimed in suddenly.

“Amatus, your _ideas_ run the gauntlet from bizarre to suicidal and I demand to know which this is.”

“Vhenan.” Ghost murmured, stopping anything Dorian was going to follow up with in its tracks. Ghost was not one for pet names. Usually simply changing his inflection to indicate tenderness. So the elvhen endearment was always a surprising pleasure.

“You say, he loves me. And that you want to share?” Ghost murmured, reaching up to lightly touch the humans face.

“Not _want_ , necessarily. Willing.” Dorian choked out.

“Do you like him?”

Dorians brow furrowed “He’s my friend, of course I do.”

“You’ve never dreamed of tasting the scar on his face?”

Dorian choked slightly, pulling in a gasp of air to correct it. Stirring slightly, color rising in his cheeks.

Ghost chuckled, softly and silkily. For the reserved man he was, the elf had always been seductive in private, when he was confident. And it only grew throughout the Inquisitions victories. “That reaction for a hypothetical kiss?”

“I…Have wondered once or twice. But never seriously. I love you, Amatus. Is this a test? Are you testing me? I feel like our roles were switched, but I was not testing you.”

“I have a proposal.” Ghost continued, smiling secretively. “Perhaps I can share, but only in a certain way.”

“I don’t…follow.”

“Seduce the Commander.” Ghost said, pulling back, voice returning to his usual businesslike measure. “Seduce, and bed him.”

“What?”

“It’s quite obvious you care for him as well. And you want him. The two are compatible.”

“Okay, that’s great, now what is happening?”

“Bed the Commander. And send him to me. I do love him. But I love you as well. I will only share if I am sharing with you. Your choice. Two, or three. We will not be thrown from the course you choose. If I come to Tevinter, he will as well. If you decide to settle in Ferelden and raise Druffalo, we will both be on the farmstead, in the yard, and your bed. Choose wisely.”

Dorian swallowed harshly. “You cannot mean that.”

“Oh, but I do.”

“You want me to pick now?” He yelped.

Ghost shrugged. “Whenever is good for me.”

Dorian blinked. Then closed his eyes. Trying to imagine what each part of his life would look like, with three people, or with two people. Both were happy, one was relatively uncomplicated. But he remembered the Commanders face, his faint smile as he wrote Dorians thoughts, because he loved the Inquisitor and was happy Ghost was happy. And he remembered Ghost saying he loved Cullen. And he thought of all the quiet nights sitting across from the Commander, working in silence. Or sharing food from the kitchens when it turned out they’d worked past meal times.

“I’m going to make him fix up that fur monstrosity before I leave. It’ll fall on you and crush you.”

“If he says yes.”

_“Commander, do you have a crush on me?”_

_“N-No!”_

“I think it’ll work out.”


	5. Syl'din, Cullen, and Dorian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian fails at seduction. Cullen isn't nearly as reticent as anybody expected and given a few years Ghost can settle into life as a little shit.
> 
> Trespasser compliant. Mage Inquisitor/Knight Enchanter prosthesis. Because Dagna.

“Ah, Commander?”

“Oh, Dorian, what is it?”

It really was unfair. Dorian thought, for him to do all of the legwork in this _relationship_. Dear Maker he still simultaneously cringed and got butterflies for thinking that word. It was equally unfair that his friend was so attractive, but, such was life.

“Would you like a drink?” He asked, in favor of answering the question, pulling a bottle of wine from behind his back.

“You look like a halla under a collapsing mountain, are you alright man?”

Dorian crossed to the desk and set the bottle down. Then, after looking at the Commanders concerned expression, crossed the room, closed a door, bolted it, then paced back across to seal the other one. When he looked back up, Cullens face had gone from concerned to alarmed.

“You’re in love with Ghost.” He wished he could say it was intended, or simply artless and serious. Instead he let it burst out of him like some secret he’d been dying to share, rapid, nearly unintelligible.

“Dorian, you and Ghost are together, I swear I’m not intending anything.” Cullen replied with a mixture of, yes, still alarm, but concern was back.

“Yes, but what if he loved you too?”

“Dorian.” The exasperation in that one word brought Dorian to the edge of laughter. Probably best it didn’t escape, it would likely be hysterical. For all of his confidence with Ghost, he had discounted telling his actual friend they both wanted in his pants forever. “Stop offering me your lover. It’s decidedly odd.”

Oh, he’d still been talking.

“Yes but what if he wanted me to offer him to you?”

Judging my the emotions flying over his face the Commander had no idea in which category to place that.

“Fuck it.” Words were obviously failing him. If this worked, perhaps Cullen would agree to never talk about this disaster again. As is, he lunged up and pressed a kiss to the Commanders mouth.

Said Commander tensed, relaxed into it, tensed again, and pulled away.

“Did that explain things?”

Cullen looked so _confused_ “Not in the slightest.”

Doran and Cullen stood like that. In the middle of the Commanders office. Staring awkwardly at each other, Dorian redistributing weight from food to foot every now and then.

“I should explain.”

“Probably.”

“But really is it too much to hope you’ll just catch on?”

“Dorian there’s nothing to catch on to. In fact this entire thing is just you behaving strangely.”

The mage made a strange hand gesture using both hands that seemed to embody ‘eh.’ Before crossing his arms and looking up. Then looking to Cullen. “Alright, listen closely. I do loathe confessions and declarations, and I’ve had enough of them already today.”

“I-“

“No no. Listen. No, wait. Commander sit and listen.”

Cullen walked back to his desk and sat down. Sighing he looked up to his friend again.

“So, in the tawdry mess that is my life, I hold…affection, for you, Commander. And as it so happens, so does our dear Inquisitor Syl’din. And, he wants this to be a thing. And, I, might want this to be a thing, so I’m here. Proposing the thing.”

“You want to be with me?”

“So I said.”

“And, Ghost, wants to be with me?”

“Yes.” He gritted the word out.

“At the same time?”

Dorian just smirked. Dirty jokes were infinitely better than deep conversation.

“You’re thinking about it!”

“Evidently.”

Cullen leaned forward, placing his face in one hand. “How would that even work? _Shut up._ I mean, it’s hardly proper.”

“Propriety is boring. And you forget, Commander, I was privy to your regrets. I Know you think you missed a chance with Ghost. And well, Ghost plus one.”

“You aren’t a plus one Dorian.”

“Look.” Dorians nervous and light countenance flaked away a bit. “Ghost’s instructions were, “bed him, send him to me.” So really I think we could do this.”

“B-bed?”

Dorian looked offended, gesturing at his face “I am the product of centuries of careful breeding, that horrified tone was unnecessary.”

“I’m not horrified. Just, surprised. You’re springing this on me Dorian, I get to be surprised.”

“Fine fine. So. Any thoughts?”

“You, and Ghost, at once. Permanently, or?”

“Yes, permanently.”

“Equally?”

“Equally?”

“I’m not to, prefer one or, be an outlier? So to say.”

“No.”

Somewhere, between Dorian getting ready for another round of mentally exhausting speeches, and Cullen standing and walking to him, the desk was cleared.

And somewhere between Dorian acknowledging that, and asking why it had happened he found himself staring up at the commander from the desk as the mean leaned over him. Permanently worn armor pressing into leather and buckles with a pleasant weight as the Commanders face hovered above his own.

“Bed you, you said?”

“Maker, _yes_.”

 

Ghost squeezed his eyes shut and stretched, then he squinted outside, yes. Still the middle of the night, why was he awake?

A knock on the door came again.

In response Ghost rolled over, feeling a strange pang of jealousy at the empty side of the bed. For Cullen or Dorian, he didn’t know. Before climbing out of bed and grabbing a robe Dorian had given him at some point, slipping it over his shoulders and grinning and shivering at the softness.

_Knock knock knock_

He opened the door surprised to find the Commander, color high in his cheeks, hair in disarray and neck reddened.

“Commander!” He exclaimed, simply surprised at the state of the man.

Anything more he was going to say was cut off when the human swallowed them for himself. Ghost found himself being guided backwards, fused at the mouth with the human. Distantly he heard the door close, but not lock. Cullen broke the kiss.

“I have waited, entirely too long for that.”

“I-.”

“Dorian assures me he did his part. I’m hoping you don’t want a repeat now, because I don’t think I’m able.”

“Yes, but-“

“But I had to see you. Make sure this was real.”

Ghost still felt a little pang of jealousy, but it was soothed with another kiss.

“Cullen.” He murmured warmly when they separated again. “I take it Dorian convinced you?”

The Commander laughed softly. “Multiple times. I didn’t need much convincing, be he seemed intent on making it stick.”

Ghost laughed as well, pressing a kiss to the scar on the humans face. “And you’re fine with this. The three of us?”

“To be honest, I’ve spent my life regretting things. Thus far a Blight has broken out, Kirkwall has exploded, and the sky tore open. I’m starting to think I should grab things while I have hands left.”

“Valid point.”

“I can go back, now. I just needed…”

Ghost hummed and pressed another kiss to the Commanders mouth. “I understand. Breakfast tomorrow. The three of us?”

“Of course.”

“And Cullen?”

“Yes?” The Commander asked, turning as his hand touched the latch on the door.

“Dorian was in charge of convincing. You’re on reassuring. Please get some rest, I’ll need it.”

The Commander flushed bright red and slid out into the darkened stairwell. Ghost listened carefully, but as he didn’t hear a body striking the floor he imagined Cullen hadn’t met an early death on the stairs. When he heard the faint sound of the second door closing he smiled and laughed to himself, falling back onto his bed. The seed of jealousy was still there, but he was pretty sure everything was going to be alright.

 

 

“Yes. I’ll be retuning in one months time.”

“And then we all pack up and move north.” Cullen’s voice was dryer then the Western Approach. Ghost’s lips twisted into a smile, hidden with the way his head was turned as he feigned sleep.

“Yes, Amatus. You’ll be a hound amongst vipers soon.”

“You make it sound so welcoming.” Ghost shuffled a bit, looking up. Cullen, sleeping nude in the summer with their sheet bunched about his waist, had a sending crystal held above his face. He always made eye contact with the crystal. Ghost himself was happy so long as he could hear his Vhenans voice. Often preferring not seeing the crystal, so it was like Dorian was just in another room.

“We’ll be stopping by Kirkwall. Ghost has an estate in Hightown. Varric wants interviews for a romance serial. Apparently something about divine bad luck and an attempt at comedy.”

Ghost snorted “Rude.”

Causing Cullen to startle and drop the crystal. Dorians howling disembodied laughter echoing from the sheets.

“How long have you been awake?”

“The whole time. I just like hearing you two chat without me. It’s cute.”

Cullen groaned, aggravated in the fondest way, before fishing out the crystal. Ghost helped slightly, using his remaining hand to move the sheets to where the laughter was coming from. Cullen’s eyes lingered a bit on the metal bar and hilt fused to the end of the elfs left elbow. An invention of Dagnas, wrapped in a thick cloth to avoid cutting anybody with the crossguard in sleep.

“You’re making me nervous, Vhenan.”

“What’s he done now?” Came the amused reply from the crystal.

“He’s staring at my arm thing again.” Ghost whined.

“I am not, I just…It’s still strange to me.” Cullen defended “It’s interesting.”

“Slightly less than the green murder glow.” Ghost teased. “Hurts less too. And, I can still fight because Dagna made it arm length and width.”

“I’m just glad you don’t manifest the sword on accident anymore.”

“It happened once Cullen!”

“And my family never forgot.”

“You did puncture a ham with a magic sword during Wintersend Amatus.”

“It was a new thing!”

Cullen snorted “You got it stuck. There’s still a hole in my parents table.”

“I offered to buy a new one.”

“Mia prefers to use it as a threat to any man or women trying to court my nieces and nephews, actually.”

Dorian, who had resumed laughing, quieted abruptly, murmured a few words to someone, then sighed “Well, it appears our morning chat is over. Politics await. I’ll see you soon.” He whispered conspiratorially. “Maevaris has been dying to meet you.”

“’I’m bringing a mabari or two.”

“Since when did we get dogs?” Ghost asked, Dorian echoing.

“Since this week. I need a bit of Ferelden. How else would your countrymen identify me as a Dog Lord?”

Dorian huffed out a breath. “Fine. Fine.” Then fonder “Vitae benefaria, Amati.” And the crystal blinked out.

Cullen reached over to throw an arm over Ghost, who growled and wriggled away. “It’s hot!” He complained.

Cullen snorted “You’re from the north, this should be nothing.”

“I lived in the mountains for years! If you attempted sex right now I’d melt.”

Cullen laughed, standing up and reaching for a tunic. “Well, up you get. We have chores. Rosalie and her husband may be taking this place, but we need to make sure it’s in good shape, healthy animals, all that rot.”

“It’s burning outside. Clothes are hot.”

“You could do chores in the nude, I suppose. But I’d need to murder our farmhands first.”

“Shut up.” Ghost groaned, slipping from the bed himself and grabbing the lightest tunic he could find. “Antiva was terrible, Ferelden is terrible. I’m going to die in Tevinter. And you’re going to be fine. This is unfair, I’m actually from the north.”

“I’m sure Dorian won’t let you die.”

“You can carry me in a bucket.”

“Ghost, no.”

“I’ll melt, and live in a bucket.”

“Dear Maker.”

Ghost pouted, then rose up on his toes to press a quick kiss to the humans mouth. “I’ll get the horses. They like me.” He smiled “We get to see Dorian soon.”

Cullen grinned that stupid boyish grin of his and it made Ghosts stomach twist in joy, a strange feeling, as usual. “That we do.”


End file.
